Lady and the Tramp
by Ashlee Pond
Summary: The year is 1915 & 15 year old Laidy's world has been tipped upside down. Her parents have had a baby, owls are bombarding her with letters saying she's a witch & a handsome street urchin calling himself Padfoot keeps appearing whenever she needs saving & trying to give her advice; & to her amazement, all it takes is one bella notte for her to start believing him. [ON HIATUS]
1. Gifts

**Prologue: Gifts**

_Christmas, 1899._

It seemed like any other Christmas eve in the Brown household. The pine tree was hung with wooden ornaments that had been painstakingly hand painted to show various holiday scenes, little drummer boys hanging merrily beside miniature sleighs and wreaths of holly. A pile of presents, wrapped neatly in coloured packaging and tied up with bows sat beneath the lowest boughs of the tree, waiting to be unwrapped. Snow dusted the windowsills and lay thick on the ground outside, creating a blanket of glowing white that reflected the dim yellow light shining from the street lamps.

"Merry Christmas, darling."

Jim smiled down at his wife, and held out a tightly wrapped bundle of blankets. She took the bundle into her arms gently, a grin lighting up her entire face as she took in the sight of their newborn baby. Their daughter had a thick head of dark brunette hair, like her father, and shining brown eyes, rimmed with thick lashes. She had the same rosebud mouth as her mother, though, and the same high cheekbones that lent her a distinguished air without effort.

"What a perfectly beautiful little lady," Elizabeth breathed, brushing the backs of her fingers across the sleeping girl's cheek and cradling her lovingly.

Jim stooped down to give his wife a kiss, feeling as though he might burst with happiness. It may have seemed like any other Christmas in the Brown household, but to the young parents the day was something entirely, spectacularly new.

[[...]]

Christmas was going as it always did at the Black family manor. Three year old Sirius and one year old Regulus were sprawled on the rich, oriental rug in front of the fire place, Regulus excitedly hitting his chubby fists against the ground as Sirius held his toy broomstick in his hands. His grey eyes shone up at his father with reverence, but the proud wizard was too focused on reading the morning paper to pay much attention. Orion reclined in the high-backed, dark leather armchair, the backs of his slippered feet resting against the clawed wooden legs of the chair, and Sirius watched the puffs of smoke floating up and around the pages of the newspaper from his father's pipe.

"Well go on, Sirius." Walburga swept into the room in a cloud of woody perfume and swaths of embroidered silk, the scarlet red of her dress robes highlighting the lightness of her blonde hair, piled high on her head. "Go for a fly."

Sirius stood up on wobbly legs and perched himself on top of the broom, grasping the wooden handle between chubby fingers. His mother picked Regulus up and perched him on her hip, smiling encouragingly at her eldest son. Regulus clapped his fat little hands together and let out a gurgle of joy. Feeling confident, Sirius kicked off from the ground, lifted into the air – and flew straight into the wall. A tapestry tangled around his ankle and the top of his head hit the ground with a soft thud, and there he hung, upside down, feeling tears well in his eyes.

He watched his father stand up and come over to set him back on his feet, but when he opened his arms for a hug Orion ignored it and turned back to face his wife. "I told you you're just spoiling him by getting him that damn broom. He'll break himself and the house if you don't watch him."

Sirius was too young to understand what the look on his mother's face meant, or to know just how meaningful her reply would be, but he listened with hurt pride as she said, "Sirius will have to learn to take care of himself, eventually. He's not the baby of the family, any more."

The discussion was cut off by the front doorbell ringing, signalling the arrival of the entire Black family for Christmas lunch. His parents set off to greet the guests without glancing back at their eldest son, and Sirius was left standing in the corner of the sitting room, rubbing his sore head and trying not to cry. Yes, this Christmas was just like the other two Sirius had experienced, and he suspected that all the rest of his Christmases were going to be of a similar fashion, as well.

* * *

**a.n. **I re-watched Lady and the Tramp the other day, for the first time in years, and I just fell in love all over again. But the entire time all I could think of was how much Tramp made me think of Sirius Black. So here we go, an Alternate Universe story mixing Marauder's Era Harry Potter and Disney's Lady and the Tramp.  
It's set in late Edwardian England (Lady and the Tramp is set in that time period, in New England, America; but what is a Harry Potter story without Hogwarts? And it fits nicely, anyway). Sirius Black obviously takes on the role of Tramp, while I've created a muggle-born OC by the name of Adelaide to fill Lady's role. All of the family names are taken directly from canon sources, HP and LatT respectively. One of the most important differences in this universe is that students don't receive their Hogwarts Acceptance Letters until the year they turn sixteen; please keep that in mind. I changed the age because it's (obviously) going to be a romance story, and I wasn't going to write about two eleven year olds having a romantic relationship.  
It'll be updated pretty sporadically, because it's more something I'm writing for fun than a serious expedition, but I will do my best to update fairly regularly.  
Please let me know what you think of the prologue/the idea/anything at all! Reviews will be returned and I'll love you forever.


	2. Family Honour

**Chapter One: Family Honour**

_Christmas Eve Day, 1911._

Adelaide Brown and Sirius Black would not meet for a few years yet, but it could be said that their story _truly _began on Adelaide's thirteenth birthday. For it was on that snowy December 24th in 1911 that an infinite amount of chance events lined up and set their lives spiralling in very different directions, which would, ultimately, intersect at precisely the right time.

[[…]]

Laidy woke with the sun, stretching her arms out above her head before leaping out of bed and sprinting down the hall to her parent's bedroom. "Mother, father, wake up, wake up!" She pounced onto their mattress, tugging on the thick comforter draped over the top of their sleepy forms. Jim mumbled something incomprehensible and rolled over onto his stomach, pulling his pillow over his head as he did so. When Laidy tried to snuggle up to her mother, Elizabeth draped an arm over her shoulders but kept her eyes closed. Laidy tried again, "Mummy, Daddy, please, please wake up!"

"All right, Laidy, all right," Jim muttered, sitting up and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. Laidy let out a squeal of excitement and launched herself on her father, enveloping him in a hug before shoving his slippers on his feet and pulling on the sleeve of his cotton pyjama shirt. "I'm up, I'm up, Laidy, I –" Jim suddenly collapsed backwards onto his pillow, impervious to his daughter's insistent pleas. "Oh, no."

"What's wrong, Jim?" Elizabeth asked, finally opening her eyes. "What is it?"

Jim groaned, "Can't you explain to Laidy about Sundays?"

"But it's not just any Sunday!" Laidy cried, indignation warring with excitement. "It's my _birthday!_ My _thirteenth _birthday!"

Her mother let out an affectionate laugh and said, "Happy Birthday, sweetheart! Go downstairs and start getting ready and we'll be right down with your presents, okay?"

Nodding excitedly, Laidy scampered from the room and slid down the bannister of the stairs, landing on the balls of her feet and sprinting out the front door into the yard. She was so full of joy that she wasn't badly effected by the cold, choosing instead to focus on the fairytale beauty the snow lent to the landscape with childlike innocence. She paused only for a brief moment to pull her father's boots on over her stockings before going as fast as she dared down the slippery front path to see how far away the delivery of the morning paper was. She was only half way towards the gate when she heard the familiar bell ringing, and waved to the delivery boy as he rode past. He gave her a smile and tossed the paper to her at just the right speed for her to catch it without falling over, although she came close. Discarding the oversized boots at the door, Laidy went back in to the warm house and made her way into the breakfast room. She threw open the blinds and dropped the newspaper at her father's seat, before heading into the kitchen to make two cups of tea and arrange some bagels on a plate.

When she returned to the dining room, carrying a tray laden down with breakfast, her parents were waiting for her. There was a square white box tied with a blue bow clasped in her mother's hands.

Jim was smiling at her proudly. "Why, I can't believe she's thirteen years old."

Laidy grinned and placed the tray on the table, stepping over to her parents expectantly.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart," Elizabeth said, passing the box over.

Laidy untied the ribbon in one swift movement and lifted the lid, revealing an exquisite choker; a rich royal blue, with a golden clasp at the back and a golden sovereign hanging from the front. She slid her hand under the sovereign and lifted it up to read the inscription; _Raison d'être._

"Oh," she breathed, rich brown eyes widening in awe, "it's beautiful! Thank you!"

"Here, I'll put it on for you." Elizabeth draped the necklace over Laidy's collarbones, shifted her hair out of the way and did up the clasp. Stepping back to admire it, she fluttered a hand against her heart, "My, but it does look nice; so grown up! Won't Uncle Jack and Grandpa Trent be surprised?"

Laidy darted over to the mirror hanging above the mantel and admired her reflection proudly. Her thick, brunette hair was coming out of the plait she had put it in before bed and curling around her ears, but her cheeks had a nice pink flush to them and her heavily lashed eyes were shining nicely. The choker, she felt, made her look immediately more mature and lady like; less like a gangly, over excited child and more like a woman. "What does it mean, _Raison d'être_?" she asked, watching her parents reflections.

"It means 'reason for being'," Elizabeth explained, grasping her husband's hand.

Jim beamed at his daughter as she raced back to wrap her small arms around both of her parents. "Happy Birthday, little Laidy."

[[…]]

Sirius awoke to a banging on his bedroom door. Trying his best to ignore it, he rolled onto his stomach and held his pillow over the back of his head, keeping his eyes firmly shut. But whoever was on the other side of the door was insistent, for the banging didn't relent even when he threw a book at his door and yelled, "Sod off!"

"But Sirius, Mum says you have to get up now! They'll all be here soon." It was Regulus. Sirius heard him struggling with the handle, trying to make it turn. He smiled, knowing that the charm he'd placed on it wouldn't budge. "Come on, Sirius, before she sends Kreacher in."

That was enough to inspire Sirius to wrench himself out of bed and across the room. The thought of the nosy little house elf barging in to wake him annoyed him more than he cared to let on, purely because he knew that Kreacher would go running back to Walburga if he saw anything that wasn't supposed to be there, and Sirius had quite a few things stashed in his bedroom that he shouldn't have owned.

He turned the doorknob and easily pulled the door open, and Regulus nearly fell straight into him. He caught his little brother's shoulders and steadied him. "Were you pushing on the door? You know it's enchanted."

Regulus wrinkled his nose and pushed back. "You've been drinking, haven't you?"

Sirius, slightly offended at his tone, asked, "Is it that obvious?"

"You _reek _of fire-whiskey."

Sirius cupped a hand over his mouth and nose and breathed into it, blinking as his own breath hit his nostrils. "So I do." His tone suggested he didn't particularly care.

Regulus's eyes widened as he took in his older brother's bedraggled appearance. Sirius had fallen asleep in the clothes he'd gone out in the night before, and as such he was currently wearing his shirt, vest and trousers, but only one sock. Who knew where his jacket and the other sock had gotten to. His long, dark hair was falling in tendrils in front of his grey, half-lidded eyes. Regulus looked baby faced in comparison. "You're underage, though, you shouldn't be -"

"Reg," Sirius interrupted, his tone business-like, "If I let being underage get in the way of my fun, I'd never have any."

"Don't you worry though, about getting in trouble?" At fifteen years old, Regulus couldn't think of much that was worse than getting in trouble, particularly with their parents.

Sixteen year old Sirius, on the other hand, made it his mission to get in trouble as often as possible, be it with his parents, his school or the law. Rules were made for breaking, in his opinion. "I live for it," he said with relish.

"_Boys!_" The screeching sound of Walburga's voice came from the down the hall, and both boys shuddered. "Are you ready yet? The guests will be arriving soon! Make yourself presentable, Sirius!"

"And why do you not have to make yourself look presentable?" Sirius asked, gesturing at his immaculately dressed sibling. At that moment the brothers appeared quite the opposites, with Sirius half a head taller and infinitely scruffier than Regulus. They had the same eyes though, and the same strong, narrow facial structure that distinguished all the Blacks.

"Because I don't look like that," Regulus responded, punching him lightly in the arm. "You'd better hurry up, before Mum catches you."

"I'd like to see her try to catch me; she never does anything for herself anymore. She'd probably just set Kreacher on me," Sirius muttered.

Regulus laughed before setting off down the hall in the direction of their mother's voice. Sirius retreated back into his room, relocking the door behind him.

Four hours and three courses of food later, the entire House of Black was wishing that Sirius had just been left in his room to begin with. He was on his feet, Christmas desert forgotten in front of him, grey eyes narrowed, mouth twisted into a smug smirk and his wand pointed directly at his cousin Bellatrix's unblemished face.

"Another word, cousin, and I'll blast that pretty little nose right off your face." Despite the viciousness of his words, he said them in a sort of resigned, casual way; as though Bellatrix was doing something trivial, such as threatening to eat the last piece of pudding.

Bellatrix was far too ambitious to bicker over something like food, though. She knew her cousin's one weakness, and she knew just how to exploit it to her full advantage. What better time to get him in trouble than now, with the entire family here to witness his traitorous ways? She was revelling in the knowledge that everyone – the entire, extended Black family - was intently focused on them and their argument, which looked to be rapidly escalating to a duel. Her eyes gleamed maliciously as she levelled her own wand right at Sirius's chest. "I'm only speaking the truth, _cousin_," she drawled tauntingly, not at all threatened.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Sirius replied, almost in a snarl.

Bellatrix licked her lips and drew her bottom lip up between her pointed teeth, idly turning her wand between her fingers. "I know enough."

"Children!" Walburga was glaring at the two of them, her pale hands splayed on the table top, poised to propel her to a standing position at any moment. "_Sit down, _the both of you."

"But don't you want to hear what I have to say, Aunt?" Bellatrix spoke to Walburga, but kept her eyes locked on Sirius. She noted the slight twitch of the vein in his wrist. "It's quite fascinating, I assure you."

"Bellatrix, I don't think this is appropriate," Andromeda, Bellatrix's little sister – the middle of three – said imploringly. She sat beside Sirius, and had her knife clenched tightly in her hand, hovering in mid air. Sirius spared her a glance, thankful to know that she was on his side.

Bellatrix smiled at her condescendingly. "Dromeda, I'm just having a friendly chat with our dear ickle cousin. He does love school so much, don't you think he'd enjoy telling the family all about his time there?"

"Bella -" Narcissa, the youngest Black daughter, was seated beside the somewhat manic, grinning brunette and made such a contrast with her white-blonde hair and completely polished presentation as she looked imploringly up at her older sister. She wanted to avoid a scene, however justified she believed her sister's actions to be.

"Not now, Cissy," Bellatrix interrupted, not unkindly.

Narcissa fell silent, but her wide eyes flickered from her sisters to Sirius and back again, betraying her nerves. She was the only sister still at Hogwarts with Sirius, five years above him and in a different house, but Sirius had managed to make such a name for himself that there wasn't a student at Hogwarts who didn't know about him. It was she who'd incredulously explained to Bellatrix about Sirius's friendships and going ons in Gryffindor house, as she couldn't believe that they were honestly blood relatives; but now she was wondering if perhaps she shouldn't have kept the information to herself until _after_ family Christmas.

Andromeda and Narcissa both knew what was coming, and they wondered if Bellatrix had comprehended the repercussions of her actions; then again, Bellatrix never was one for thinking things through, preferring to act on impulse. Somewhat ironically, it was a trait she shared with Sirius.

"Have you told your parents, Sirius; about you and your blood traitor friends, and all the things you get up to at school?" Bellatrix asked.

Sirius's grip on his wand tightened. "Why would my parents care about my behaviour at school? They barely care about my behaviour at home."

Orion made a grunting noise at that, but if he had wanted to say anything he was cut off by Cygnus Black, Bellatrix's father, exclaiming, "Blood traitors? They'll let anyone in to that Gryffindor house, I tell you -"

Bellatrix laughed at her father's words. "It's going to the dogs, Father."

"I'm warning you, Bella," Sirius said. His voice had lost its teasing quality now.

"What are you going to do, Sirius?" Bellatrix taunted. "Your precious little Marauder friends aren't here to back you up now -"

"Don't talk about them," Sirius snarled, his upper lip curling in disgust, revealing his pointed canines. An almost feral glint had come into his grey eyes.

"Sirius," Regulus pleaded quietly, tugging on his brother's sleeve. "Please, Sirius, don't hurt her -"

"I'm not going to hurt her, Reg," Sirius reassured him, but his tone suggested otherwise.

"Of course you're not going to hurt me," Bellatrix said calmly. "You don't have the nerve, without that mudblood Pettigrew, the half-blood Lupin, and the traitor Potter -"

"_Expelliarmus!_" Sirius roared, shooting the spell right at Bellatrix.

She managed to duck; the spell hit the wall behind her, burning a small patch in the wall paper that made Walburta shriek in horror. In an instant Bellatrix screamed, "_Stupefy_!"

Sirius dodged the spell, but immediately all of the Blacks were on their feet, wands out and aimed right at him.

"How dare you try to harm my daughter, you rotten boy!" Druella, the girls' mother, screamed, near hysterical.

"I knew that having a Gryffindor in the family was going to taint our name!" Cygnus shouted over his wife's shrieking. "Dangerous, traitorous things, thinking they know better than years of wizarding history, trying to bring in radical changes!"

Sirius's eyes roamed over his family, narrowing in disgust. "I didn't realise there was something so radical about accepting all wizards, regardless of their blood lineage."

Cygnus pointed a fat finger at his nephew. "You knew it damn well, boy, and it's not Bellatrix's fault that you're making the wrong decisions and hanging around ingrates -"

"Don't talk about my friends!" Sirius threw an errant hex at the ceiling, not aiming to hit anyone but needing to let out his frustrations. Bits of plaster came showering down and covered the remaining food in a layer of plaster dust.

Everyone flinched, with Cygnus shooting a spell at Sirius in retaliation; Sirius dodged it easily and it shattered a glass sitting on the shelf at the back of the room.

"Your _friends_," Walburga hissed, clearly embarrassed by her son's behaviour, "are a terrible influence. You need to spend more time with Narcissa -"

Sirius laughed at that, a loud, harsh, bark of a laugh that made Regulus stare at up at him, shocked and scared. "More time with _her_?" Sirius swept a hand over the three Black girls before settling on Narcissa, the only one in attendance at Hogwarts with him. "And her Slytherin cronies, like Malfor, who go around picking fights with defenceless first years and bullying everyone who disagrees with their narrow minded, backwards view of the world -"

"_OUT!_" The word was roared with such a ferocity that whatever Sirius had been poised to say died on his lips. He blinked at his father, whose face had gone a deep, ruddy purple with rage. "Get out of my house, boy! I will not have you dishonour this family any longer!" Orion kept his wand aimed at his eldest son, pointing with his other hand at the door.

Sirius felt a rush of emotions that he couldn't quite identify, but kept his face in a controlled, blank state. He turned slowly to see Bellatrix smirking at him triumphantly, Narcissa and Andromeda gaping, and Regulus – Regulus, trembling with fear, eyes wide. When he looked at his mother she just shook her head and pressed her lips together so tightly that they almost disappeared. "I was just planning on leaving," he said coolly.

"Sirius," Regulus said suddenly, lunging for his brother's arm. "Sirius, no, don't go; they don't mean it -" He glanced at his parents, waiting for one of them to agree, to tell Sirius that they were overreacting and to just clean up the mess and go to his room. But one look at their strained faces assured him that, this time, his brother had gone too far. His pleading became desperate. "Sirius, don't go, don't leave -"

Sirius turned around and placed a steady hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Reg," he said, loud enough for the entire room to hear. There was an undercurrent of tension to his words and his jaw was working tightly. "You've always been their favourite, you'll be fine without me here."

And with that he turned on his heel and stormed to his room. As he stalked down the hall he heard Druella fussing over Bellatrix, and Cygnus ranting loudly, "If I were you I would have kicked him out as soon as he was sorted into Gryffindor; no good could ever have come from that!"

Sirius's hands were shaking with rage, but he tried to keep himself composed as he shoved the few belongings he actually cared about or deemed necessary into a small rucksack – enchanted with an invisible extension charm, naturally. He kept his wand in his vest pocket, close at hand. He didn't stop by the dining room on his way to the front door, stamping deliberately loudly down the staircase to the foyer to let them know he was going.

Bellatrix's high, cruel voice echoed down the stairs, "Run off to your blood traitor friends, ickle Sirius!"

He side-stepped Regulus and Andromeda, who were waiting for him, red-faced, at the foot of the stairs.

"Sirius," the younger boy said again, even more desperate than before. "Please don't go, don't leave me -"

"I meant what I said, Regulus," Sirius told him firmly, forcing himself to meet his little brother's eyes. "You're their favourite; you'll be fine. You've always been the better son."

Regulus looked like he was trying not to cry, and Sirius wondered with amazement how he could suddenly appear so young, so very much like the little brother he used to be, who idolised Sirius and everything he did. "They love you, brother, I know they do, they've just -"

He was cut off, as a loud bang came from one of the upstairs rooms; followed by cackling laughter from his extended family and furious shouting from his mother. Walburga shrieked and hollered, "Off the family tree! No son of mine puts blood traitors before his own family! I have only one son!"

Sirius raised an eyebrow at Regulus, disguising the sick feeling rising in his stomach. "They might have, once, many, many years ago," he told his brother. "But I don't remember it."

Andromeda stepped forward, sighing heavily. "You know there are better things out there," she whispered.

Sirius nodded once. "The standard hasn't been set very high."

She gave him a small, sad smile, and squeezed his arm. "Take care, little cousin. Please write."

He turned the door handle and stepped out onto the landing, breathing in the crisp winter air. "I'll try to send you an owl, but it probably won't be until I'm settled in."

"Where are you going?" Andromeda and Regulus asked in sync.

Sirius considered for a moment before replying, "I've got a place. Don't worry about me."

Regulus lingered on the threshold of their grand old house. "Goodbye, big brother."

"Goodbye, big cousin, little brother," Sirius said, allowing himself a moment of tenderness with the only two Blacks he cared about before apparating away, erasing himself from his family permanently.

* * *

**a.n. **I hope you enjoy this chapter! Sirius is such a fun character to write.  
Just to clarify, I'm getting all of my relative ages (eg. Narcissa being five years older than Sirius and the youngest of the three Black sisters) from the Harry Potter Wiki, because it seems to be pretty reliable.  
Please let me know what you think of the story so far!


	3. Change

**Chapter Two: Change**

_July, 1915._

The mild summer of 1915 would prove to be the one in which fate decided that Adelaide Brown and Sirius Black's paths should finally intersect. Their lives would change drastically, and not without struggle, but it would be a magical time for the two of them. Their loyalties would be tested and their faith would be pushed to its absolute limits as their entirely different worlds collided, but both teenagers would learn that sometimes obstacles aren't as big as they seem, and that the dizzying high of true love can be the most powerful magic of all.

[[…]]

The whistle of a train sounded somewhere in the distance, not loud enough to be obnoxious but just enough noise to stir Sirius awake. He lazily blinked his eyes open, yawned and stretched his arms high over his head. He listened to the rhythmical chugging of the steam train as it took off, thinking of the Hogwarts Express and how he'd soon be back at school in his own dorm and his own bed. Ah, how wonderful it would be to sleep in a proper bed. He swung his legs over the arm of the couch he was lying on and pointed his toes, stretching out his cramped calf muscles. He stood up and padded across the wooden floor to the kitchen, where he poured himself a glass of water. He only drank half of it, though, before splashing the rest over his face to help him wake up.

A bar of sunlight was shining in through a crack in the curtains over the window, and when he pulled back the thin curtains and threw it open he revealed a beautiful, sunny morning.

"What a day," he said with a happy sigh, breathing in the fresh air from outside. He clapped his hands together. "Well, now to dig up some breakfast."

The kitchen, however, held nothing appetising. There were a few bottles of fire whiskey, a mouldy banana and a tin of beans. And that just wouldn't do. Sirius was an eighteen year old boy, he needed a hearty breakfast to start his day!

"Marauders!" He called out to his friends James, Remus and Peter collectively using the name of their gang, but received no response. "Lazy buggers," he commented, "still asleep."

Truthfully, it had been a big night the night before – full moons always were – and he couldn't begrudge the others for still dozing. But Sirius's stomach was growling, and he wasn't about to wait for his mates to wake up before going to get breakfast. So he straightened himself up, snuck some muggle money out of Remus's wallet with a mental note to repay him later, and headed out into the bright morning.

Two blocks down from the abandoned warehouse the Marauders had set up camp in, there was a park, and as Sirius crossed through it a ball came flying over his head and landed in a tree behind him.

"Hmm." He looked from the ball towards its owner and spotted a group of children, no older than seven or eight, standing in a circle and staring at the tree that had taken their ball. Their nannies were sitting on benches further behind them, their noses buried in the gossip pages of freshly printed newspapers and their attention completely diverted. The children were all talking over the top of one another, now, pushing and shoving as they blamed each other for losing the ball. "Awww, cute little rascals," he said with a smile as one of the boys ran towards him.

"Mister, hey, excuse me, Mister!" The boy said, coming to a stop right in front of his feet. He tugged on the leg of Sirius's trousers. "Mister, can you get our ball out of the tree?"

"I sure can," Sirius replied, beaming down at the kid.

He turned and walked to the base of the tree. The ball was obviously too high up for him to reach, sitting in the crook of some branches further up than his arm could stretch. But Sirius had no trouble getting the ball out of the tree – all it took was a quick summoning charm and there it was, clasped firmly in his hand.

The crowd of children gathered at his feet were _ooh _-ing and _ahhh_-ing in delight, clapping their hands together and squealing excitedly. "Thank you, Mister!" They exclaimed as he gave them back the ball.

"No problem," he said, "Try not to get it stuck up there again, not every grown up is as talented as me."

"Okay!"

He laughed as they ran off again to resume their game, and left the park with a smile on his face. "Now, that breakfast, let's see," he said to himself when he reached the street, which was still relatively empty. He surveyed the shops across the road. "Bernie's? Hm, nah. Francois? Oh, no, no, nope. Too much starch." He rubbed his stomach absentmindedly, and continued scanning the street. His eyes lit up as he had a sudden thought; "Ah, Tony's! Oh, that's it. Haven't been there in a _week_."

He took off at a pleasant pace, already smiling in anticipation of the good grub he was going to get. Before he even got to the back door he heard the chef, Joe, singing to himself as he kneaded dough; "A beautiful day to make a pizza to taste, and they call it bella note."

"G'morning," Sirius greeted, swinging open the door and letting himself in.

"Well, buongiorno, Butch!" Joe responded in his strong Italian accent, calling him one of his many nicknames. Joe had a rather lanky build, apart from his stomach, which was rounded – as most chef's are. He had a bushy black moustache growing underneath his large nose, and a giant white hat perched on top of his head. He wiped some flour off his hands and grinned at Sirius. "You wanna your breakfast, eh?"

Sirius nodded, flashing his most charming smile. "Nothing beats a good pizza for breakfast."

"Okay," Joe said, waving his hands around as he talked. "The boss-a, he's-a save-a some-a nice-a food for you."

"Ah, isn't Tony a sweetheart?" Sirius joked, trying not to salivate at the pizza Joe was pulling from the freezer and boxing up for him. When the chef handed it over, he reached into his pocket for Remus's money – but Joe shook his head.

"Nonono, Butch, there's-a no need," he insisted. "For you, no charge."

"Aw, Joe," Sirius said, giving him a genuinely thankful smile. "You are too good to me."

Joe just smiled back, before waving him out of the kitchen. "Now leave-a me be, I have-a work-a to do, eh!" Sirius waved goodbye with his free hand as he exited back into the alley behind the restaurant, but turned around when Joe called out, "Salami a-comin' up from-a left field!"

He managed to catch the sausage of salami that Joe threw to him with one hand, and crowed happily, "Thanks Joe! This should keep us going!"

"Ahaha, good-a catch!" Joe complimented, and then disappeared back into the kitchen.

Sirius trotted off happily with his substantial amount of food, situating himself on a nice park bench to eat. He was on his last slice of pizza when he heard a clattering of horse and cart, followed by the familiar whistle of the Ministry of Magic employee. They were getting stricter with their law enforcement in an attempt to keep unruly young witches and wizards in line while they were away from school. There were posters up everywhere – bewitched to say something mundane to the muggle eye – that proclaimed that any witch or wizard performing underage magic would be arrested immediately and dealt with by the ministry. Why they insisted on using muggle transport, Sirius wasn't sure. Perhaps to make it less obvious to the underage magic folk they wanted to catch and more reassuring to the muggles?

The cart went past him, and he spotted two more familiar faces sitting in the back, behind the bars of the locked door. He swallowed the rest of his pizza in one bite and watched as the auror pulled over to the curb out the front of the muggle entrance to the Ministry, disguised as a second-hand book store, and dismounted.

"Now you two wait in there," he said sternly, pointing to the two captives. "I'll be right back out to escort you inside in a moment."

Rookie mistake, Sirius thought, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. So not a fully qualified auror then, just a small-fry hoping to impress the boss with by arresting some kids for a misdemeanour. As soon as the officer was out sight Sirius stood up and snuck over to the cart.

"Hey! Psst," he whispered, rapping gently on the bars. "Psst!"

"Blimey!" Benjy Fenwick exclaimed loudly, shaking his round head in disbelief. "Look, Marlene, it's Black!"

"Shh!" Marlene McKinnon slid forward to peer through the bars beside Benjy, her blonde hair falling in front of her eyes as she did so. She smiled at Sirius and said flirtatiously, "Hiya, handsome. Come to join the party?"

"All right, all right, no time for wisecracks," Sirius said in a low voice. "I've gotta get you out. Where are ya wands?"

"In his pocket, of course," Benjy replied, nodding towards the building the auror had disappeared in to. "Took 'em as soon as he caught us practicing our duelling."

"Of course," Sirius grumbled. He got his own wand out and hurriedly unlocked the padlock keeping the door shut, thankful that a stronger charm hadn't been placed on it. "I'm tellin' ya, the pressure's really on. Signs all over town."

"Gee, thanks," Marlene said as the padlock clicked open and the door swung outwards.

"You're a bit of alright, chum," Benjy said happily as he jumped down, helping Marlene out after him.

"Okay, okay, get going," Sirius urged, ducking low as the door to the 'bookstore' opened. "I'll get your wands back for ya."

"Hey, what's going on over there?!" The auror called out when he spotted the scene.

"Scram!" Sirius yelled to Benjy and Marlene, who didn't need to be told twice. "And be careful!" He called after them as they ran away and disappeared down the street.

The rookie auror went to go after them, but then he spotted Sirius. "You mangy kid!" He yelled in frustration.

He threw a disarming charm at him, but Sirius was too quick. He ducked the spell easily and shot a quick stunning charm back, which knocked the auror off his feet. Sirius offered a quick apology as he grabbed Benjy and Marlene's wands from the incapacitated man's pocket, and then he took off, trying to get as far away as possible before the effects of the spell wore off.

As fate would have it, he eventually found himself in the nicest part of town, where all of the three-storey, Georgian houses had spacious front lawns with perfectly trimmed, lush green grass and neat iron or picket fences bordering them off. They were painted in bright but un-alarming pastel shades, and everything was so neat and orderly that Sirius couldn't help but feel completely out of place.

"Well, snob hill," he said to himself, "Ha."

He ran his hand along an unnaturally neat hedge and stopped at a drinking fountain at one of the corner, where two teenage girls were standing and chatting.

"Hi gals, how's pickin's?" He greeted them with a smile. The girls looked him up and down and made a small noise of disapproval before turning their backs and crossing the street, casting suspicious glances over their shoulder at him as they went. He shrugged and said jokingly, "Pretty slim, ey?"

He took a sip of water before continuing on walking. "They've got everything all neatly boxed off here, don't they?" He murmured, observing the clean, empty streets around him. "I wonder what this set do for fun."

[[…]]

The letter itself was an innocuous thing, a creamy coloured envelope stamped with a thick red wax seal, marked with a crest that Laidy didn't recognise. It was a little bit thicker than most letters, perhaps, and the way it was addressed was a touch odd. It was for her, according to the neat script inked across the front, which even specified which bedroom was hers.

"Mother, Father," she called out, waving the letter in front of her, "There's a letter here for me."

"For you, Laidy?"

She blinked up at her mother as she appeared at the top of the stairs, her caramel coloured hair tumbling over her shoulders in loose waves and her dressing gown hanging lopsided off one of her shoulders, exposing the lace trim of the nightgown she wore underneath, which stretched slightly over her rounded, pregnant stomach.

"Yes, for me." Laidy looked back down at the letter, turning it over in her hands. "It's a curious looking thing."

In moments her mother was in front of her, and Laidy handed the letter over to her, waiting expectantly for her to show some sign of recognition. Instead, Elizabeth turned and stepped back up the staircase, calling, "Jim dear, Laidy has received a letter; do come look."

Jim entered the foyer from the direction of the kitchen, and from the crumbs sprinkled across the front of his waistcoat Laidy guessed that he had been in the middle of breakfast when they'd called him away. Apart from that he was immaculately groomed, his hair parted and slicked back, his moustache neatly combed and his clothes all pressed and ironed.

"A letter for Laidy, you say?" One of his eyebrows arched as he examined the envelope, running his fingers over the ink.

"Who would be sending a letter to me?" Laidy asked, looking to her father for the answer.

Jim laughed kindly, "We won't know until you open it." He handed the envelope back to her and draped an arm across Elizabeth's shoulders, planting an affectionate kiss on the top of her head.

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Laidy darted off into the study to get the letter opener, and her parents followed at a more leisurely pace. They entered the room, decorated all black and burgundy to give it a more serious aesthetic, just in time to see her slide the sharp blade across the top of the envelope and slice it open. She reached in and pulled out multiple sheets of parchment, and began reading aloud;

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Adelaide Brown,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

Term begins on September 1.  
We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall

_Deputy Headmistress_

Laidy's wide brown eyes rose from the letter she held in her now shaking hands to her parents, who were standing quite still on the other side of the room. "You – you don't think it's real, do you?"

Jim and Elizabeth exchanged a glance and walked over to their daughter. "What do you think, Laidy?"

She inhaled slowly, trying to steady her shaking hands. "Well, it must be a ridiculous joke, surely…" But even to her own ears her denial sounded unconvincing. "I can't be a- a _witch_. There's no such thing." She searched her parents faces for some comfort, but they appeared just as confused and worried as she felt. "…Is there?"

There was a moment of silence, and then Jim carefully took the letter from her hands and stored it in a drawer of his desk. "Perhaps we just need to think about what this letter means, before making a decision. Your mother and I will discuss it."

Laidy opened her mouth to protest, but at that moment the colour drained from Elizabeth's face and she clutched at her swollen stomach. "A kick," she breathed, rubbing her stomach. "I have to sit," she said suddenly, as though coming out of a reverie. Jim took her arm and began to lead her from the room, effectively ending the conversation.

"Father, Mother, please- " Laidy began, but Jim held up his hand for silence.

"Not now, Laidy, please," he sighed, rubbing his temple with the hand not supporting his wife. "We'll talk later… when your mother's rested."

"But this could be important!" Laidy exclaimed, gesturing towards the desk that now held her letter. "What if it can't wait?"

"It can wait," Jim said curtly. "You're fifteen, Adelaide, and you have to realise that when this baby arrives they're going to take up a lot of our attention."

"I know, but -"

"Not another word."

Laidy watched her parents leave the study without looking back, and tried to quash the disappointment she felt welling at the back of her throat, biting her bottom lip to stop it trembling. Her little sibling hadn't even arrived yet and she was already being pushed into second place; it was ridiculous. She marched over to her father's desk and yanked open the drawer that he'd put her letter in, folding it back into its envelope and placing the whole thing in the pocket of her dress. If her parents didn't want to read it, fine, but it was _her _letter and she was going to get to the bottom of this.

She slid out of the study and back into the foyer without being spotted by either of her parents, and cautiously opened the front door. A warm summer breeze hit her as she stepped out onto the porch that encircled the entire house, making the lace cuffs on her dress flutter against her wrists. She'd only just made it around the side of the house and settled into a deck chair in a shady corner when she heard her Uncle Jack – who wasn't really her uncle, but her Grandpa Trent's closest friend - and Grandpa Trent calling out to her. Normally she loved their visits, but today she was not feeling in the mood to entertain guests.

"Lassie!" Jack called out his nickname for her in his thick Scottish accent, "Lassie!"

"Oh, Miss Laidy, ma'am!" Grandpa Trent hollered, rolling the words so they were drawn out. "Miss Laidy!"

"Ah, good mornin', Lassie," Jack said happily as the two of them appeared around the corner. "Tis a bonny, braw, bright day, uh, today." He trailed off as he spotted her melancholy expression.

"Why, Miss Laidy," Grandpa Trent said softly, "is, uh, something wrong?"

Laidy didn't say anything, unsure of whether or not she should tell them about the letter.

"Aye, tell us, Lassie," Jack insisted, "If somebody's been mistreatin' ya -"

That got a response. "Oh, no, Jack," Laidy said, straightening up ever so slightly before slumping down again. "It's something I've done, I guess."

"You?" Grandpa Trent inquired.

"It must be," Laidy responded sadly, "Mother and Father are acting so -"

She was interrupted by the soft sound of Elizabeth singing a wordless, happy tune drifting through the open window above them as she placed a post of fresh flowers on the sill.

"Jim and Elizabeth?" Grandpa Trent asked loudly.

"Hush man!" Jack scolded. The two of them followed Laidy around to the back of the small greenhouse in the garden, where they wouldn't be overheard, and Jack continued, "Now, Lassie, get on with the details."

"Well," Laidy began with a big intake of breath, "They're constantly fussing about the baby, and the baby hasn't even arrived yet, but it's already like they don't have time for me."

"Well now, Lassie, I wouldn't a-worry my wee head about that," Jack said reassuringly, "Remember, they're only human. They're bound to be a bit uptight."

"That's right, Miss Laidy," Grandpa Trent agreed. "Uh, as my grandpappy used to say, um – Don't recollect if I've mentioned grandpappy before…"

"Aye, you have, laddie," Jack said tiredly. "Uh, frequently."

"Oh, yeah," Grandpa Trent said, as though he'd just remembered that he'd told every story there was about his grandpappy more than a dozen times and was extremely disappointed that he wouldn't get to tell one again now.

"But now," Laidy continued, as though she hadn't been interrupted, "they're always telling me to leave them alone and discussing things that I'm not allowed to know about, and it's not fair."

Jack and Grandpa Trent gave each other a knowing smile that infuriated Laidy. "Now, Lassie, do not take it too seriously," Jack advised. "After all, at a time like this -"

"Why, yes. You see, Miss Laidy," Grandpa Trent intersected, "there comes a time in every family, when, uh, well -"

Laidy blinked at him with huge, brown, innocent eyes.

Jack cut off his ramblings, "What he's trying to say, Lassie, is that for a while your parents will have to focus on the baby, because babies are helpless and they demand all their parents' attention."

"But they're mighty sweet," Grandpa Trent said, smiling down at her reassuringly.

"And very, very soft," Jack added nicely.

"Just a cute little bundle," an unfamiliar voice chimed in. Laidy whipped her head around to see a strange young man meandering down the path into the garden from the open gate. He was incredibly handsome, with shaggy, dark hair and chiselled features, but his suit looked a little bit too worn and he walked with a confident swagger, not at all in the refined manner than she was used to seeing gentlemen walk. "_Of trouble_. Yeah; they scratch, pinch, pull hair, _cry_. Aw, but, shucks, anyone can take that. It's what they do to your happy home."

As he got closer she noticed that he had grey eyes, and deducted that he was probably a few years older than her. Her heart fluttered as he looked her over and a smile tugged up the corners of his lips. Jack and Grandpa Trent exchanged wary glances. The boy gently pushed Jack aside to stand right in front of the shocked Laidy.

"Move it over, will ya, friend? Home wreckers, that's what they are!"

That was too much for Jack. He bristled, "Look here, laddie! Who are you to barge in?"

"The voice of experience, buster," the strange boy replied calmly. "Why, just wait til junior gets here. You get the urge for a hug from your mum and," he put on a high pitched voice, "_Go away, I'm busy with the baby!_" Back to normal tone, "You want to play some music in your room," high-pitched again, "_Stop that racket, you'll wake the baby!_" He crossed his legs and leant back on the greenhouse casually, continuing normally, "And _then_, they hit you in the room and board department. You're no longer the baby of the family, so you have to take on more responsibility. Say goodbye to sleep ins and relaxing Sundays, you'll be cleaning and cooking and soon enough they'll be making you pay rent -"

Laidy couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Oh dear!" She exclaimed, feeling as though she might cry. What this strange boy was saying was so horrifying that it drove all thoughts of the letter stashed in her pocket from her mind.

"Do not listen, Lassie," Jack said comfortingly, "No parent is that cruel."

"Of course not, Miss Laidy," Grandpa Trent added. "Everybody knows that parents love their children equally."

The boy laughed. "Oh, come on now, fellas. You haven't fallen for that old line now, have ya?"

"Aye, and we've no need for mongrels and their radical ideas!" Jack growled and started to shoo the boy away, apparently fed up. "Off with ya now, off with ya, off with ya!"

"Okay, Sandy," the boy teased, completely unfazed as he casually backed away.

"The name's Jack!"

"Okay, Jack."

Jack seemed to realise that he deserved a better title than that, and said, "Mr O'Glencairn, to you!"

"Okay, okay, okay," the boy said placatingly, but his smile was still infuriatingly arrogant. He turned and began strutting off back towards the street, saying over his shoulder as he went, "But remember this, Pigeon. A parent's heart has only so much room for love and affection. When the baby moves in, you move out."

Laidy was too stunned to say anything in reply, and so simply stared after him, wondering who he was and if she'd ever see him again - and desperately hoping that what he'd said wasn't true.

* * *

**a.n. **sorry about the wait, this story is kinda on the backburner compared to my others, but I do have fun writing it so I will try to update it fairly regularly. hope you enjoy it, please let me know in a review!


End file.
